Facing the Past, Creating the Future
by Dzuljeta
Summary: Edmond comes to see Mercédès. Their happy past, once shattered, finally has the chance to be reborn. The question is whether it can still be possible with everything each of them had to go through... Edmond/Mercédès
1. 1

_A/N. **Disclaimer: I own nothing. Alexandre Dumas (p****ère****)**** does.**_

_This story deals almost exclusively with Edmond and __Mercédès. Their relationship, what it was, is, and might be. It should not matter whether it is based on the book or one of many films, as I plan to only include the two… and possibly Albert._

_The story was meant to be short (primarily intended to be one-shot),but…_

**1.**

"Count," Mercédès avoided to look him directly in the eye, so that he wouldn't see the fear in her eyes – fear that she wouldn't be able to behave properly, forgetting that her childhood lover, as she remembered him, was long gone.

"What has brought you here?" Her indifferent tone frightened her guest, as Dantès realised he was no longer sure whether it was a good idea to come to her at all.

"I don't know how to begin," he met her look, which, however, gave out nothing.

"Please, make yourself at home, Count," she gave him a cold smile.

"Mercédès… Please, don't address me by this title… you know very well it doesn't belong to me."

She has never seen him so disturbed… couldn't remember herself so much overtaken by his uneasiness either. But Mercédès felt she was not ready to call him by his name just yet – that would mean something was still there, refusing to die in her heart. The feeling she valued back in their happy days.

It would rise up the hopes she has been working on for so long trying to kill. His exquisite garments, his behaviour, even his sometimes frightening manner of speaking that has been enhanced by the education she has never had the chance to acquire… These things made her feel she did not belong even to the world they had both shared before the tragic line of events began to take place. "I'm sorry, I cannot…"

Mercédès was fighting with herself, and the worst thing was that she knew it was impossible for her to win the fight. Whenever this man wasn't near her, she kept telling and assuring herself she could forget about him. But now that he was only a few metres away from her, she was certain of nothing.

Dantès, feeling the tension of Mercédès, took off his hat and his heavily decorated coat, believing this would make her feel better. However, he, even seeing the apparent letdown of her tension, still refused to come closer to the woman that once was everything in his life. Mercédès, his Mercédès, was as beautiful as ever – now even more, as the pain she has gone through has somehow made her eyes give out the experience, the quiet resignation to the things she wasn't able to cope with or get away from. But he did not dare to even think that her feelings for him – be it Edmond or the Count of Monte Cristo – was also one of those things.

Neither would she admit it, though it was true that now she couldn't take her eyes off him – as different as he now looked from the young boy she had been planning her happy future with – he was still the same Edmond she had loved for so many years. And Mercédès did love him now, the moment he was standing a few steps away from her.

"Do you hate me, Mercédès?"

She smiled at him sadly, this time not turning her eyes away. "Hate you? What for?"

"For making you go through it all. I can only hope you did learn to love Fernand and see some of his positive sides." _If he had any._

This made Mercédès want to laugh bitterly at Edmond's foolishness. Or maybe the mask she has finally learned to put on her face had its effect? For better or for worse, she could not suppress the bitter words.

"Do you really want to know it? What if I _did_ love him? Despite everything?" All of a sudden she realised it was the worst thing she could have said, as she met his eyes.

Edmond covered his face with his hands.

_No, no, no._ "No, I did not love him," she hurried to assure the shocked man. "Not a bit. But then, did I have a choice?" Mercédès, without realising it, attempted to justify herself in front of the Count.

The look Edmond gave her burned her like fire. He saw something hauntingly familiar in her eyes. This made Mercédès turn her eyes away. She did not want him to see through her as well as he did many years before.

"I can only guess the reason of your coming," she whispered. "Sadly, Albert is not here with me today. Unless you are ready to wait until he comes back," Mercédès took a deep breath, trying to assure herself that their son was the only reason of this unexpected visit. She could have lied to him, but knew she wouldn't be able to.

"No, Mercédès… I came to see _you_."

She shuddered, thankful Edmond- the Count was there to sit help her down. "I will bring you some water, Mercédès," he whispered uneasily. He seemed to be… or _was_ concerned about her. She wondered if he knew the weakness was caused by these simple words… uttered in that very tone she knew and loved so dearly. Was everything returning to her now? The childhood dreams reborn? She shook her head. That was impossible...

For a moment she wished her-their son was there with them. Mercédès was afraid. Terribly frightened… She could despise _Fernand_ openly, as his love for her turned out to be nothing but mere lust… a wish to have her for himself. As a toy. But with Edmond, her one true love… it was different! It still was…

"Mercédès," Edmond began gravely. "I do not know if it's a good idea at all…" He took her hand, she trembled, feeling it reminded her of so many- too many things. "I wish I could have stayed with you always…" his voice fell, no longer sounding like that of the cold Count of Monte Cristo.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she could only whisper, wanting to reassure herself that her Edmond was gone, the Count being merely a shadow of a dream, once painfully shattered.

"Because I refuse to believe everything is over between us, Mercédès. This is not how it should have been."

She gave a cough. _I can't listen to this. I won't listen to this! _"I know," she made herself speak. "But we have a grown-up son now, Edmond." _Edmond!_ This was the first sign that she has accidentally passed the border she has sworn she'd never-

Covering her mouth with her perfectly manicured, lady-like hand Mercédès for a moment gave Dantès the impression that everything was useless... That she had also become one of those empty-headed ladies from high society… He continued anyway.

"I have been dreaming about you, Mercédès. Day and night, night and day! All those years..." his voice fell. Dantès stopped, waiting for some kind of reaction from her.

"I thought you were going to hate me," Mercédès spoke about times much more recent than those of his torture. "For I apparently betrayed your love… our promises… our everything."

"Did you?"

Mercédès shook her head, no longer able to understand if this conversation was real or something caused by her constant reverie. She got up, no longer able to look at him.

"Don't torture me like this, Mercédès." He took a breath, before wording the final question. "Tell me if you want me to leave, I will." It was painful to see her so distressed and unsure of herself. "Or if you'd rather I-

She shrugged, feeling her face flush, just like it used to all these years before.

…

_A/N. I will make it all my way. :)_

_Please, do post reviews… and don't be too harsh…_


	2. 2

_A/N. Thank you so much for reading and commenting! Yes, this is primarily a love story. __Just a basic wish to fix the situation. (__The illogical thoughts of Mercédès are caused by her natural reaction to his visit. Nothing incurable)...  
_

**2.**

"Stay," she whispered after a heavy pause, turning back to face him. "If you have no business to attend to… yes, I would rather you stayed and waited for Albert... Edmond." Mercédès was feeling weak; her mind kept telling her it was not right to address him by his first name... Her heart kept telling her Edmond Dantès was truly back int her life… for better or for worse.

Meeting his eyes required some inner strength from her. She knew the "waiting for Albert" part was something she had made up to mask her uneasiness. She could have acted as if she were nervous about how their meeting would go. It would have been a most transparent excuse, as she knew the Count and Albert got along well. But Albert and Edmond? The son and his father?

Dantès smiled, not attempting to hide his joy from her. He understood her reasoning fairly well. Having learnt human psychology the hard way… Knowing hers well did help, but was frightening at the same time. _Was their child the only thing important for her now?_

"You should know, Mercédès," Edmond spoke uneasily, afraid that touching upon the subject would shatter his hopes about their future completely, yet understanding there was only a very tiny chance of it happening. "Your last name had never changed this way in my mind…" he stopped. "I could never have thought you would marry my _best friend_," he cringed. Mondego was dead. Gone, never to return. The only traces of the traitor were now encountered in this very household…

"Why bring sad things up again?" The voice of Mercédès was but a broken whisper, and she did not look at him. Her last name. Their son's last name. It was all wrong. "I would have preferred to have yours, you know. Albert should have been a Dantès from the very start… should have known the truth from the beginning." However, she knew it was her marriage that saved her from public disgrace. It seemed to be a mistake, nonetheless...

"No, Mercédès. Albert has use of it, even more so now that your husband is gone… Mercédès Mondego, not Mercédès Herrera." _Not Mercédès Dant__ès, either._ She believed she could hear discontent in his voice.

"Forgive me," she muttered, meeting his eyes at last. This, however, did her no good.

"No need to apologise… There was nothing else for you to do," he realised how much she had been suffering all these years. "We were victims of circumstance… both you and me, my Mercédès…" The tone of his voice seemed to bring back so many things… She felt her hands tremble.

Mercédès was feeling uncomfortable at the apparent familiarity, once so common between them. It was no surprise that she turned her eyes away from him once again. _The feeling_ impossible to have for any other was there, attacking her violently. The only way to ignore it was to pretend nothing was wrong, the way she had when she had thought her Edmond dead.

"Your name opens every door for you, as well," Mercédès finally found the courage to speak, her tone strangely artificial.

"Monte Cristo, the Count?" he uttered the words rather sadly, his tone suddenly acquiring a mocking shade. "Oh yes, it does. I can have almost everything I have ever been dreaming about." _Almost…_

Mercédès took a deep breath. "I am happy for you," her small smile made Dantès regret his words at once. He wished to see her smile at him again… but not like this.

Instead of saying anything, he came up to her and made her look up at him.

Edmond was worried about her. It seemed as if Mercédès was close to losing consciousness. He grabbed her by the hand, concerned. The woman froze in place. The pretending did not seem to be working. She was tense, uneasy and puzzled about the effect _the…Count _had on her. Her head was about to start spinning. And now he was holding her hand! What sorcery was this?

"What is wrong? Is my presence really troubling you so much, Mercédès?" His voice was soft and caring… this _was_ Edmond, her Edmond… They had all fooled her, saying he was dead! He was right there beside her, holding her hand, watching her closely and… and…

Dantès was there to catch her. "You need to lie down right away. I will tell everybody you are not to be disturbed." If it was he who was causing all the trouble… The Count was ready to leave. Her health and sanity were much more important than-

She did not object, when being led upstairs to her bedroom. "Where is this life leading us?" She whispered, certain of nothing and not waiting for an answer. The man she loved was now somebody else. She was now somebody else. "Thank you for helping me…"

Edmond did not know what to expect from her. Blaming himself for putting Mercédès through everything, he could only fix his eyes on some giant colourful tasteless tapestries. "You have asked me to stay, remember?" He had to keep her aware of the fact he was ready to stay with her for as long as she would have him.

Instead of reacting to his statement-question, the beautiful woman gave one to him. "Explain this to me… Who are you? Are you the Count of Monte Cristo… or Edmond Dantès? Or someone else?"

He did not think it was going to be so complicated. But it seemed to be.

"I could be anyone you need me to be, Mercédès."

_Anyone? Anyone?_ He could never be "anyone" for her! Why was he talking like this?

Dantès could read confusion in her eyes. Apparently, she did not feel well. Could not think clearly. He sighed. "Have some rest now… I will be here."

He intended to stay, whatever the cost. And Mercédès was the last person he could lie to. Edmond did not know where their story was going. If there still _was_ a story between them possible to rebuild. There had to be.


	3. 3

_A/N. At long last. I apologise for having kept you waiting for so long. Hope this chapter (not the last one yet) meets your expectations at least a bit. Merry Christmas!_

* * *

Mercédès did not know for how long she was asleep, but the first thing she noticed was a sad smile on the Count's face, a smile that has changed into a happy one as soon as he saw she was awake. The woman pushed away the wish to smile back at him, surprised he kept his promise and remained nearby her. She could not back away the idea her behaviour towards him had been unacceptable, but could not make herself apologise, let alone thank the man for being there with her. It seemed every word uttered could make them believe the impossible. There were too many unanswered questions… Too many things to think about.

Edmond Dantès remained silent, unsure if he should say something first or if it was better for him to allow the uneasy woman speak. Very soon, she did. "I have understood you when you told me you came to see _me_, not our son." Mercédès understood very well she was putting Edmond into a situation she herself would have hated to be in. But there was no reason for either of them to pretend or play games. Although she felt she would gladly come back to the days when none of the horrors of life seemed to exist, she knew nothing could ever be the same.

"Indeed, I have come for you… primarily," he spoke quietly, following her closely, but added nothing else, allowing Mercédès to ponder on the open sentence. It did not take long for Edmond to receive some kind of reaction from the woman that meant so much to him still.

"Are we taking chances?" Mercédès spoke with distrust, only to throw an apologetic glance at him moments later. "We are no longer adolescents. We cannot allow ourselves-

Their future. That was exactly the thing Edmond was secretly willing to talk about with her… but he was not sure if this sudden and unexpected conversation was going to have any results. However, he decided to make the best of the fact that Mercédès was at least considering the idea, however uncertainly.

"The society would be against it, is this all that is frightening you?" Edmond spoke with disbelief, understanding too late his words sounded as if he was blaming her. "Have you changed that much?"

She seemed not to have heard the way the words were uttered. "The life has changed me… has taken everything from me. All I have left is my child, and I will live to make sure his life is better than _ours_ had been…" She trembled, as the realisation hit her. Albert was about the same age now that they had been then…

"Albert is _our_ child," he reminded, a small smile on his face. This time, the woman could not say whether the small smile on his face was sad or not. "He is waiting for both of us downstairs," the Count informed her, ready to meet shock on her face. He seemed to have forgotten the fact she was still in bed.

Suppressing a wish to help Mercédès get up, Edmond was watching her silently. He did not know why he informed her at once, still unsure about whether the rest she had had helped her the way he hoped it should have.

"Wait-

Mercédès realised then she had forgotten her manners. _What gave me the right to talk to him in such a way? _Uneasy, she threw an apologising glance his way, surprised to see that Dantès did not seem to mind, looking at her understandingly instead. His eyes met hers, and the woman closed her eyes for a long moment – the regard bore so many feelings in it that she wanted to turn away… However, Mercédès did not, knowing she had no right to lose her composure more times than she already did that day. And there were things she had to know.

"Tell me the truth," the woman demanded, her voice firm, but quieter than she would have liked. Mercédès avoided addressing him in any way. _The Count_ felt improper. _Dant__ès_ - she had never used it before and did not intend to then, whereas _Edmond_… Pushing away the fact she had been addressing her once-beloved by his first name but hours before, Mercédès gave the man a nearly pleading look.

It was then she noticed a note on the table. Waiting for her to wake up, he had been scribbling nonsensical sentences - Mercédès could remember that had been his habit all those years ago whenever he had been uneasy, but throwing merely a glance to it has made her inhale deeply.

"Even your handwriting is different," she noted, forgetting everything about manners for a moment.

Edmond tried his best to hide away the feelings within him, avoiding to meet her eyes that now were searching for his. "Of course it is different. It changes with time, according to experience and acquired educa-

Mercédès sighed heavily. "Or when one becomes someone else?" her voice, always quiet, bore some kind of poignancy in it.

"Yes." The man was still looking away, unwilling to show Mercédès how this last sentence affected him.

A knock has disturbed the uncomfortable silence that felt so wrong between them.

"Good evening," Albert nodded at the Count and looked at his mother with worry. "Do you need anything, Mother?"

She smiled at him. "Thank you, everything's fine now that-

Edmond Dantès, or the Count, gave Albert an intense look. For a moment he believed his son could see there was still something going on between him and Mercédès. Very soon, the unbelievable idea left his mind. "She does not seem comfortable having to talk to you, or to men in general, on her own." Without knowing it, her son touched a painful string.

"But of course, Albert. She had been married for such a long time. And now that Fernand Mondego is no more," Edmond was speaking slowly, still not completely sure about the reaction his words might provoke. Too little time has passed, too many events have taken place…

Mercédès was watching them with a small smile on her face.


End file.
